


Liberation

by orphan_account



Category: Boyfriend to Death (Visual Novels)
Genre: Coffee Shops, Other, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:15:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26392489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: You enjoy a coffee date with Cain.
Relationships: Cain (Boyfriend to Death)/Reader
Kudos: 8





	Liberation

You look at the silverware laid out in front of you and wonder what it would be like to stab your wrists with it. Would the blood shoot out of you like a geyser, or would it slowly trickle out, dark lines joining to where your ulna is supposed to be. You wonder what Cain would do. Although you know that he'll catch your fingers trying to surreptitiously grab the knife handle, you can't help but imagine the lovely illusion shattering. 

You imagine slashing at his pretty face and you wonder if you'd be able to peel away at his skin, showing off the monster that he really is underneath. You want to scream out to the servers and shop goers that _look! this is the demon that impersonates the face of an angel. He is not what you think he is!_

You think Cain has a twisted sense of humour. Sure, everything about Cain was twisted. But _this_? This little impromptu get away/coffee date? This was absolutely brutal. He had mentioned that - when you first met (properly) - you won't be able to go back to Earth. Your only options were to stay with him or wander among the treacherous plains of Tartarus. You sometimes wonder if you should've taken the lesser of two evils and chanced getting devoured by some reptilian beast, instead of being devoured by Cain in almost every sense of the word. 

Back to the matter at hand, what was his real reason for dragging you back to Earth? He loved to torture you, to watch you squirm and to grovel for mercy at his feet, but why would he bring you to where other humans were? Did he want to see you suffer? To know that no matter how close you were to civilization (and therefore, freedom) you could not run away? To tempt you with the fruit and cruelly take it away once your fingers grazed the edges of it. You fantasize about scooping out his fake blue eyes with a spoon. 

When one of the servers comes, her eyes are drawn not to your disheveled, malnourished form, but to that of Cain's. 

_This typical bullshit._

You can't help it. You like to remind yourself that you don't feel jealous; that you _shouldn't_ feel jealous over it. But you do. Oh, you're very, very, jealous. You think, as you trace the serrated edge of the knife, that you'd love nothing more than to cut a Glasgow smile on the tart's face. Maybe stab her in the nether regions. And maybe pull out one of those artfully arranged roses from the glass vase in front of you and just ram the thorned stem inside of her ear canal. You want to watch the blood drip out of her stupid head.

But you can't do that. Now that she's done ogling your companion/abductor/torturer, she seems to remember the other person sitting at the table. She asks what you'd like to eat and you say: "Water. With ice."

She frowns at you, eyes drifting to the round bone molded by the skin of your wrist and questions: "You don't want to eat anything?"

"No."

"Are you sure that you don't want to eat anything?" The woman presses on. 

"No!" You snap, getting sick of this stranger's pity. 

She looks at Cain, as if the single gesture could prompt him into action. What? Did she expect him to feed you? To try and beg you to at least eat some of the scraps, as if you were some poor, scared animal instead of a poor, scared human? 

Your hands begin to quiver in rage. Cain notices. Because he always does, and places a hand on yours, caressing the underside of your palm affectionately. It makes you sick. Yet, it also makes you long for more, knowing that this could possibly be the only moment that he'd ever deign to show some form of love to you. 

"We'll be fine here. Thank you." He says, attempting to smooth over your outburst. And it works, because the next thing you know, she bumps into one of her colleagues, looking dazed as all hell. 

"Why did you bring me here?" You ask quietly. 

The monster looks at you for a moment, saying nothing. Then, he procures a rose and starts twirling the stem between his thumb and forefinger. "I wasn't aware that I needed a reason to spend time with my favourite..." A petal falls off. "Pet."

The rose disappears. 

"Now, won't you tell me what's making you frown so much?"

Despite your brain screaming at you to stop, you tell him. You tell him, because you want to get off the worries and hurt of your chest. He might use this information to hurt you later on, but you don't care. After all, it _feels good to tell the truth, doesn't it?_


End file.
